Disgusting
by God-King-Moth
Summary: Ichigo lost more than his powers after the war. Urahara has a dangerous tendency towards self-loathing. :Warnings inside:
1. Chapter 1

:First attempt at this kind of style, sorry if it's kind of shitty. I'm trash for this pairing, but I also acknowledge it's probably not very healthy. Don't bother flaming. I am very weak,,, so this might stay as a oneshot or it might not.:  
:No explicit smut or sex scenes, general angst warning. TransIchigo. Completely unedited- vague spellcheck. Sorry for mistakes.:

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You lick suddenly dry lips even as you force yourself forward. You don't bother to knock- just push the door open gently. The murmur of the rest of the hospital is quiet background noise, and it fades even more when you look at him, quiet and small in the white room, perched on his bed- sharp edges and thin wrists, looking like a starving bird though you know he eats and exercises regularly.

He doesn't acknowledge you- he can't, so you close the door and move over, sitting on the bed next to him. He startles, and then a smile spreads over his face, transforming it from wan and hopeless to something beautiful and precious.

"Kisuke?" He chirps, eyes unfocused and staring vaguely in your direction. You smile and take his hand, turning it palm up and dragging fingers over it in the signs you memorized specifically to talk to him. You know only Yuzu did this much- Karin barely learnt and Isshin didn't even try, too scared to face his own son.

You know that his friends didn't either- Chad tries to learn it in his spare time but they're all too afraid to see Ichigo broken and vulnerable when they built him up to be so unshakeable in their minds.

'It's me.' You scrawl over his skin and his smile gets even brighter, if that's possible. It's like staring into a ray of sunshine.

"I'm glad. You didn't come yesterday, Jinta being a troublesome kid again?" He tilts his head, amber eyes so empty even as they express his happiness. Guilt seeps into you- you couldn't help it; he knows you're busy sometimes but you feel like you betray him every time you leave him alone in his empty prison.

A body that failed him- the worst kind of prison.

'He decided to throw paint at Tessai, and got it all over the papers Tessai had been organising. I was up to my neck in forms that had to be refilled so we could get new stock in.'

You pout, even though you know he can't see it, and he snickers.

Isn't it sad that he smiles more now than he ever did when he could hear and see and had his powers?

You know it's wrong. He's desperate for any contact, any presence he feels he can trust, and your heart thuds painfully in your chest. You're disgusting, and you're taking advantage of him; but you've been fascinated and drawn to him for so long you can't help it.

You squeeze his fingers and he squeezes back even as he tells you to pass on how proud he is of Karin for winning the soccer match Yuzu told him about- and to tell them both that it's fine, and he understands they're very busy with school. He doesn't want them feeling guilty.

A bitter laugh spills from your lips. You are not a good man, you have never been a good man, and you have a vindictive streak a mile wide to match your tendency to manipulate. You want them all to feel as guilty as possible, you want them to drown in it. At least you talk to him; at least you try. Ichigo hasn't even heard from Rukia in a year- cowardly girl.

You want them to drown in guilt even as you drown in yours.

He squeezes your hand again. "Kisuke? Is something wrong?"

His eyebrows draw together in worry and he stares anxiously through you, concerned.

You don't deserve this.

'No, just lost in thought.'

Ichigo snorts. "If it was something pervy, hat-n-clogs, I swear..."

'You have such little faith in me, Ichigo! I'm hurt!' You're sure he can feel you shake with laughter, and his smile widens and then softens into something infinitely lovely.

Your heart thuds again. You don't deserve this.

"I love you." He murmurs, and you're already tracing it in return, over and over and over again on his palm because you can't murmur it to him in-between kisses; he wouldn't hear it and it would be pointless. He never shook the habit of blushing, and his cheeks pinken even as he looks pleased and overwhelmed all at once- like he's somehow not deserving of you, instead, which is startling and ridiculous.

He deserves much more than you.

You kiss him, chaste and soft in a way you've never kissed anyone before him- a slew of lovers in and out the door, but none ever captivated you quite like this boy had even before he was broken.

He kisses back, shy in the way only the inexperienced are, and it makes you feel warm that he wants you, of all people.

The little voice of reason tells you it's because you're the only one who pays attention to him, the only one who tries to touch and talk and reassure. You're disgusting.

But you're also desperately selfish, so you continue kissing him until he's flushed a soft pink down his neck and his eyes are bright with something akin to wonder even as he smiles at you, thumb rubbing circles over your knuckles.

You cup his cheek with your other hand and he leans into it the way he leans into every touch- he's so starved of affection it's automatic.

You kiss him again, a little deeper and he grins into it in a heartbreakingly excited manner. He told you once that your kisses gave him butterflies, and you'd told him that was adorable, and he'd huffed at you until you'd kissed his pout away.

"Kisuke." He murmurs into the kiss, eyes closed- and for a moment you can pretend he isn't broken, that when you say his name he'll open his eyes and see you, grin and respond-

But it fades quickly, and you drag his name over his palm in response; he's familiar now with the way your fingers stutter and catch sometimes, when you're feeling raw and guilty, so it's no surprise when he bundles himself into your lap.

You laugh a little raggedly and curl one arm around his waist, burying your face into unruly gold-orange curls; just this side of too long, now. You always keep one hand on his, and he smiles against your neck.

"You know I've forgiven you. It's all been my choices- just because you presented them doesn't mean I'd ever blame you. You've always been there for me." He nuzzles closer. "You still are."

You close your eyes tightly. God, you are disgusting. Disgusting and far too old to be contaminating this precious boy with your presence; but despite all odds he wants you here.

He doesn't really, the little voice returns. He's just desperate.

'I won't go.' You sign, and you feel him smile against your skin.

"I know. Thank you." He mumbles.

'I love you.'

"I love you too."

The conversation turns to kinder things, and it's easy to ignore the self-loathing and just bask in Ichigo's presence. You haven't seen him scowl in so long you've almost forgotten what the discontented expression ever looked like on his face; and realistically you know he's trapped in a forever dark, silent hell, and it's probably tearing him apart- he can't even hide in his inner world, can't hear his zanpakuto spirits at least- they've been ripped from him, and now his soul is shattered at the edges.

But for all that he must be hurting, he's so blissfully happy when you're there that you forget, sometimes.

He's thinner now than he used to be- it's the stress, because the nurses help him around every day, make sure he spends time on the treadmill, and he does katas on his own- you've seen it, how he finds himself a space and doesn't move out of it even as he practices.

Yuzu brings her cooking all the time, and the food here isn't actually that bad- he's just unhappy.

You pick him up and he squeaks adorably- for all that he obliterated Aizen and saved all three worlds, he's still just a teenager, (and you're practically a peadophile) small and lithe with his mother's height and frame rather than his father's. He glares half-heartedly in your general direction even as he leans into you, fingers tangling in your shirt as you carry him outside into the hospital's gardens. The nurses smile as you pass; you're practically a permanent fixture now, and you smile back.

You set him on a bench in the sun, and he seems to unwind and un-tense like a cold-blooded creature; you think briefly to the form the Visored's told you of, lizard-like. You sit next to him and he immediately reaches for you- like a child, almost, and you feel disgusting again even as you pull him close and run a hand up the back of his shirt, because you know he likes the feeling of skin against skin, innocent in his desire for contact. You settle over his spine between his shoulder blades and Ichigo soaks up the sun as he holds your other hand, chattering cheerfully about the nurses and how they always share the latest gossip with him- did you know doctor Jameson is crushing hard on nurse Strescht, and it might even be mutual?- and you reply with amusement. No matter where Ichigo goes, he inspires loyalty and friendship, it seems. Nurse gossip rings are notoriously hard to infiltrate. Ichigo laughs breathlessly at that, and he's beautiful.

The one good thing to come of all this, perhaps, is that the hospital felt so bad they made it easy to arrange top surgery- Ichigo was elated when you told him, and now he's far more open with his hugs (and his shirts- you don't pass up the opportunity to ogle Ichigo when it's given, and Ichigo has found a love for loose, low necked ones made of soft fabric that would never have hidden his binder.)

Ichigo laughs again and every time you look at him you're blown away by just how stunning he is. It was easier to ignore when he was scowling and violent, but now he seems free even as he's grounded, and it hurts.

The sky darkens a bit with impending rain- you've been so wrapped up in him you didn't notice- so you scrawl a message and he laughs gleefully as you scoop him up and dash inside.

You only get a little wet, and if there's rain on Ichigo's face he only laughs more and lets you kiss it away. A nurse fondly tells you both to get a room- you wonder if they would all be so approving and open towards your relationship if they knew the things you had done- and you tell Ichigo and he sticks his tongue out in a random direction. You turn him gently to face her, and she laughs and so does Ichigo.

You twine your fingers with his and lead him back to his room, and he gazes through you with something akin to adoration.

What have you done to him?

You gently pull him into the room and then into a hug, and he squirms as you playfully rub his cheek and neck with your stubble- he yelps and giggles. "Kisuke! Oh my god- you're like a porcupine!" You snicker at that and kiss him into a calm kind of quiet.

'Did you finish the book I brought last week?' You smile into his cheek even as you trace it over his hand.

"Mhmm. I know it must be really hard, finding all these books in Braille for me. I appreciate it."

You don't mention that you pay to have them custom made.

'It's fine. I enjoy seeing you happy.' You smile as his cheeks pinken again, and lead him over to the bed where he sits again; tugging you down next to him with a small smile of his own.

You're so glad Ichigo's an amazingly fast learner. When his eyes and ears started to go- so soon after everything had happened, after he'd lost his powers; too fast, deteriorating with no cure in sight- Isshin had stepped up to the fatherly plate so to speak and had experts tutor Ichigo in Braille and sign language- you had been sequestered in your lab trying desperately to find a way to fix it. Trying to find out what went wrong.

You didn't find anything in time.

Walking into the hospital the first time had nearly broken you. Ichigo looked like a strong breeze would shatter him, and he'd been so surprised when you'd sat down and signed over his palm he'd actually wept, clinging to you and sobbing openly. You held him for hours, and then when you'd apologised for being unable to help, he'd just smiled.

"You came to speak to me. You don't have to apologise for anything, hat-n-clogs."

From hat-n-clogs came Urahara, and then just Kisuke. You'd insisted the change from Kurosaki-kun to Ichigo had just been easier to sign, but he'd just smiled knowingly and you'd let it be.

For all that Ichigo lets himself be happy and calm and young now, he's intelligent and mature, and still a soldier who's been through a war and lost so much, and it shows sometimes in the way he's sitting when you visit him. Tense and ready for an attack from any side. You know he has dreams- flashbacks, and though he could never get proper help (because who would believe a young disabled boy had been fighting and killing since fifteen? Been through a war?) you do your best to talk him down and keep him calm. He's confessed you make him feel much safer, and one time he touches your cane and directly thanks Benihime for helping you look after him. Benihime is stunned into silence for a long time before she responds- warm and maternal (and that's startling in and of itself) that he's very welcome. You pass it on and Ichigo smiles, and you resolve to confront her about the burst of affection she sends towards him.

("What, Kisuke, I'm not allowed to approve of the boy who sacrificed everything to save everyone, and who you obviously adore and who adores you? Fuck off. You didn't even flinch when he touched me. What other lover have you ever trusted enough to let them do that?")

Sometimes Ichigo asks you to come back after dark, when visiting hours are over and the doors are closed and Ichigo is in bed. Even in your gigai you're practically invisible when you want to be, and you sneak in through his window. Often he's sitting up and waiting, and he welcomes you with open arms, pulling you into the bed. He sleeps better when you're there, and you'd do anything for him. If keeping a harsh hold of your desire for him is what is needed to make him happy, so be it.

He's told you before he barely experiences dysphoria anymore- he can't even see his body, so what does it matter?- and it shows in the way he sometimes tugs at your shirt, looking embarrassed but hopeful all at once, wanting you. (It's hard to believe he actually wants you.)

You treat him like he's fine glass, beautiful but fragile, even as you feather kisses over the scars on his chest and over his throat. If the nurses ever see hickeys on his neck they keep quiet, and to your chagrin Ichigo seems to enjoy feeling like he's yours.

You're disgusting, the voice whispers, a constant mantra as he writhes under you, your fingers mapping his body like he's artwork, quiet and soft in the moonlight through the window.

Disgusting.

"I love you." He whispers, and you believe him.

'I love you.' You draw over his skin, and you believe yourself.

He's fascinating to talk to; smart and witty with a quirky kind of humour you appreciate intensely. Despite the difference in age you genuinely enjoy his company, genuinely want to spend time with him for reasons other than the physical attraction. It's startling, at first, when you realise you've fallen for him.

But he kisses you first, and there's no way you could ever reject him. You're good at lying to yourself, but you could never willingly hurt him. He's too precious.

Sometimes he sits with you and you let him map your face with gentle fingers, following the curve of your cheeks, smiling when he brushes your stubble. "I bet you look like a grungy old man." He teases, but the affection on his face neutralises any offense that could be taken from it.

You'd die for him, you realise one day. You'd throw yourself in front of any blade, take any punishment that soul society could ever give him. You want to protect him.

Isshin doesn't approve but he long lost the right to make decisions on behalf of his son. Things are strained between them but you can't bring yourself to care. If Isshin had tried to forbid you from seeing each other you would probably have just bundled Ichigo up and run away with him.

Ichigo settles in your lap like he belongs there- perhaps he does.

You're defiling a child, the voice whispers, but for all that maybe you're defiling him he lost his childhood many years ago.

It takes a while to talk around Isshin, and then the hospital, but soon you're his official carer and he's living with you in the shop. You offer him his own room but he just laughs and curls up in your futon with you, amused.

Tessai learnt sign language as soon as he learned that you were trying to take Ichigo from the hospital- and Ichigo happily accepts tea and conversation from the tall, broad man. They get along well.

One time Jinta slams straight into Ichigo, and they both tumble in a tangle of limbs, Ichigo apologising profusely -because everything is automatically his fault now that he's deaf and blind, and Jinta snaps out a 'watch where you're going!' Before he realises who he just bumped into. Ichigo doesn't hear, but you do, and Jinta quails under the look you give him as you help Ichigo to his feet.

Karin avoids Ichigo whenever she comes around, and you feel a cold kind of amusement when she also avoids your knowing looks and scowls, ashamed and embarrassed at her own behaviour. She doesn't rectify it though.

Renji is the first one to come through the shop on a mission, and you find him standing in one of the doorways, staring at an oblivious Ichigo as he smiles cheerfully and fiddles with clay, the area carefully covered in newspaper to keep everything clean. Renji doesn't say anything, just stares, and you realise that perhaps Ichigo's friends are not used to seeing him so calm and smiling.

You breeze past him, and settle by Ichigo's elbow, and he looks in your direction with a loving smile, chirps a hello, and you kiss him chastely before smiling as well when he leans into you and goes back to his clay. He's making a surprisingly accurate rendition of his hollow mask- horns and all. It's small but nice, and you contemplate firing it and putting it somewhere when he's done.

Renji looks both gobsmacked and sad.

You don't care.

Ichigo might be a good person, but you're not, and you'll hold anger and disappointment and disgust at all of his friends until they fix their mistakes, revel in their well-deserved guilt, even as the voice in your head tells you that you're just an opportunist, using a broken boy to get what you want.

Disgusting.


	2. Extra, extra, read all about it!

:Guest reviewer number two, you happen to be in luck because I had a half-finished sequel floating in my phone relatively similar to what you wanted! I cleaned it up, and here it is. You're welcome, I suppose.:  
: **Warnings** ; descriptive panic attacks, anxiety, vomiting, general unhappiness plus feelings of betrayal. UraharaxIchigo.:

..

You think maybe you're happier with Kisuke than you've ever been anywhere else. Even trapped in silence and darkness, you're happy. It's relieving, and you feel guilty for it, but you don't have to be so unfailingly mature, everyone's rock. A weight has been lifted from your shoulders; and you can smile freely, act your age.

You don't really know how this all happened- it was too fast, you couldn't come to terms with it before it was too late.

But you can still feel things, still know where your tongue and nose and fingers are, and you know how long your limbs are, how tall you are, so you move through the empty world carefully, hands always extended just enough to catch yourself, footsteps slow and cautious.

But Kisuke is warm when he touches you, fingers calloused and strong- you imagine Benihime demands nothing less. He doesn't flinch away from you when you turn to look at him- a reflex you can never erase. He's sorry for you, wishes this never happened, but he doesn't pity you or treat you like you're a step away from imploding. You love that he still treats you like you're strong; because you are. You've powered through worse things than this. (You tell yourself that, anyway.) He's cheerful in the way that was frustrating at first- dodging questions; hiding his face behind that silly fan.

The hideous bucket hat. The foolish shopkeeper routine.

It's fallen slightly behind, now, he's more genuine in his behavior, but you find that that cheer is no longer annoying; it's endearing and it keeps you sane.

He talks to you all the time- it's never awkward like it is when Karin and Yuzu visit. God knows you try- try to ask about school and soccer, but Yuzu is halting and unpracticed and always touches your hands too lightly for you to tell what she's saying. And you're just not as _comfortable_ around her and Karin as you are with Kisuke. You flinch away when she touches you unexpectedly, which is always, and you're on-edge until she says it's her. You suppose it's the PTSD coming through- child soldiers fighting other people's wars are known to suffer aftereffects.

When she comes alone, without Karin, she just sits in your lap and cries. You can feel her shake. She tells you the family's breaking apart- that it's already broken, that Karin has already left, Goat-face too, and she and you only have each other.

You do your best to comfort her.

In the hospital, you have lots of time to think and stew and resent. Anger festers in your heart though you try your best to reassure yourself that you chose this path, it was no-one's fault but your own; you acted too mature and they took you at your word- you were too protective, let your instincts to fight and defend take you over and get you into bad situations. You chose to fight their war- they wouldn't have made you if you'd have backed away from the beginning. You miss the times when it was just you, Chad, Tatsuki, and bullies.  
You thought Tatsuki and Chad, at least, would come visit. You suppose Tatsuki is still mad at you, or doesn't know how to face you and retain her anger. You don't resent her for that, really. Chad hurts, but you reconcile yourself with the fact that he's probably busy with Ishida and Orihime fighting the hollows you can't even see the effects of, let alone the monsters themselves.  
In the hospital, you don't let yourself get weak. You memorize your room, the nurses take you down to the gym once a week, used for physiotherapy, and you keep yourself firmly ingrained in the katas and stretches that were beaten into your very blood when you were young. You almost wish you had a sparring partner, but you know it would never work, now. You'll never really fight again.

Kisuke only brings interesting discussions and genuine questions about your day. He explains the science behind his latest experiments, tells you stories about Jinta and Ururu. He holds you when you're trembling and shaking yourself apart at the seams, and just his presence sews you back together.

He doesn't treat you like you're broken and useless.

He doesn't make you feel disgusting.

He makes you feel intelligent and worthy; even as months pass and none of your friends come. You wonder if they've all forgotten you. Kisuke has no answers.

Realizing you're in love with him is simple. You could give less of a crap how old he is- someone your age- someone normal- would never understand you anyway. They'd never be able to cope with your issues, to talk you down from the precipice you place yourself on when you feel like you should be waking in the middle of a war-zone.

He gets your name out on your palm and you grab his hand. You don't want him to talk right now, twining your fingers together even as your other hand finds his chin, pulling him down (is everyone taller than you? It feels that way sometimes) and you find his mouth easily. There's no miss- no embarrassing 'that's my nose', and you can feel him inhale sharply. You imagine calculating eyes open wide in shock and it's endearing.

You're laughing, you realise, shaking against him and he seems to snap out of his frozen state, winding arms around you and kissing back.

You'd never have imagined Kisuke to be hesitant or gentle, but that's how he kisses you.

It falls into place like a jigsaw puzzle, everything in the right spot and connecting to form a bigger, better picture. You never mention it because he never brings it up, but you're well aware of how he's changed the shop around, the living quarters behind it- everything has been rounded off, the floor is always clear, there are no sharp corners.

You get along well with Tessai- he's very direct with the way he speaks, doesn't tiptoe around you and your feelings like you're glass, and that's reassuring. You feel like you're still strong.

You're at the hospital for an overnight stay; a mandatory check up, making sure you're being taken proper care of. You feel a bit like a child, but that's fine- you'll do what they want you to if it means you stay with Kisuke.

It's late, the nurses are gone, and a hand touches your shoulder. You tense, because Kisuke isn't here, he's busy at the shop today, and every instinct you honed in battle turns haywire, disuse doing nothing to dull them. You're halfway across the room, hand reaching for Zangetsu-

You fall short when your fingers curl around empty air, and you feel your face shift to heartbroken loss before you can school your expression.

"Who's there?!" You snap instead, teeth bared.

There's a sudden burning pain and you choke on your own breath, feel your eyes widen as the steel shifts through your body and emerges from your chest. You can imagine what it looks like, flashback to battle upon battle, and then suddenly you don't have to imagine, because things are coming out of the darkness that's been eternal for so long. Hazy outlines, a light source, figures in the room with you. You don't hurt anymore, and you stare blankly down at the glowing sword in your chest.

Your reiatsu lashes out suddenly, from nothing to a raging hurricane that you only calm through instinctual suppression, until it's still and stifling. It's been so long since you've felt this aware of anything. You close your eyes and revel in it for a moment.

You're silent- you hear someone call your name and flinch- you can see again, you can hear- you feel even more broken than before as the sword vanishes and you turn to see Rukia, smiling, looking _proud of herself_ , holding the sword. You feel like vomiting. You want Kisuke.

You back away, stumbling towards the window. Renji is starting to frown, Byakuya eyes you with a cold gaze, Rukia is scowling, Kenpachi looks utterly bored.

"Nothing." You rasp. "Two years, of nothing- no visits, not a hint of your presence-" you see Renji flinch guiltily- perhaps he's seen you, but never approached- and that makes y **ou so angry, you want to hurt him** \- "and you turn up, to give me something back that I _didn't ask for_." and you didn't- you'd just become comfortable in your own skin; accepted your fate, **your broken prison that only occurred because you sacrificed your soul for them, your partners, your very being** -and Soul Society comes back and flips your world on it's head again. Rukia looks angry. You forestall her yelling by raising a hand. "Don't." You snarl. "This isn't showing you care. This is showing the Gotei 13 only want to make sure their ace in the hole isn't too ruined to fight for them again. If you'd cared, you would have come before; even though I was broken." Your breath catches in your throat, like sharp glass, and Rukia looks ashamed. Renji is pale, drawn. Your spiritual energy is fraying at the edges again, you're too emotional to even attempt to calm it, so you leave through the window, your room on the first floor, and you barely think as you make your way back to Urahara's shop. You want to go home. You didn't want the first thing you saw to be anything but Kisuke's face.

You skid to a stop, shivering in the cold night air, take trembling steps and slide the door open warily.

Tessai drops a box and you hear the things inside smashing. Your eyes snap to him and he looks gobsmacked. "Ichigo?" He questions, and you just nod weakly at him. You can feel your reiatsu gathering around you like a storm, know that if you don't get somewhere it'll be suppressed you'll bring hollows down on Karakura by the bucket-load.

Tessai is there, suddenly, and you're so startled that you can see him you lash out. He shifts out of the way of your wild punch, and you freeze.

"I'm sorry." You croak out, and he just hums. "I'll get Urahara. Stay here, Ichigo. It'll be ok." He looks at you searchingly before disappearing into the back. Kisuke must be sequestered underground or in his lab- or he would have felt your presence by now, wild and uncontrolled as it is.

You barely realize you've sunk to the floor, vision bursting in spots of light as you vomit on the polished wood, the hush of your name and thin fingers stroking through your messy hair. You're shaking and sweating, and once you're done heaving someone picks you up, carrying you somewhere. Your eyes are shut tight, your reiatsu is burning you from the inside in its maelstrom, reflecting your emotional state perfectly.

You come back to yourself in the bath, lukewarm and comforting. You're still clothed and the fabric clings to you uncomfortably, makes you think of sticky blood, so you hurriedly peel it all off and throw it to the ground outside the tub. You stare at your shaking fingers- pale and slightly bruised, scraped. You wonder if you were clawing at something.

You stutter out a broken laugh- Rukia _literally stabbed you in the back_ , isn't that ironic?- then flinch when you hear it. Everything is overwhelming- you're used to your silent prison.

You startle when someone takes your hand, and you hesitate before looking up into Kisuke's face. He looks pale and concerned, and you practically fling yourself into his arms, water sloshing over the sides of the tub and going everywhere. He pulls you into his lap, uncaring that you're getting his clothes damp, tucking you close. He wraps you up in his arms, and you feel small and safe all at once. You curl your fingers into his shirt til your knuckles are white.

"Ichigo." He murmurs it into your hair and you relax a little. There's no reproach in it, only worry and affection. "What happened?"

You explain in quiet bursts; you're still confused and your memory is fuzzy from the panic attack.

Hours later, when you're dressed and warm in soft blankets, sitting by the heater to help you calm down, Kisuke walks you through soothing your reiatsu down to manageable levels. It works, and he tells you Tessai has put up kido that will prevent you from being sensed inside the shop.

"Thank you." You're still flinching whenever you hear your own voice, and Kisuke just smiles wryly and kisses your forehead, smoothing your hair back from your face. "Anything for you." He whispers, and you wonder what else he used to whisper, knowing you'd never hear it.

You swallow. "How... How can I see and hear? How did... Just my reiatsu, fix any of that?" He takes your hand and traces patterns into the palm until you're calm again. "You haven't looked in the mirror, have you? Your spiritual body is... Unharmed, having not really existed inside you when you lost your vision and hearing." He leads you up, to a mirror fixed on the wall, and you blink, staring at yourself.  
You look different but the same, hair longer- you're much paler than you used to be, a result of staying inside so often. You look at your eyes and Kisuke has to steady you.

There's a blue sheen over them, like a glowing film of reiatsu. It makes you feel uncomfortable, so you look away. "So... My spiritual body is overlapping my human one?" You frown and look up at Kisuke and he nods. "Same for your hearing." You lick your lips.

You both head down, to the underground training area, and nostalgia hits you like a freight train, your knees buckling slightly. "I could hear him, before. My hollow. I didn't realize I'd miss his intrusive thoughts and bloodlust." Kisuke kisses you, softly, and you both stand there for a moment before he gently knocks you out of your body, catching the empty form easily.

You feel free. It's fucking blissful, open and unrestrained, like you've broken out of steel bars and rope designed only to crush you in place. Your hand curls around Zangetsu and you throw yourself into your inner world, desperately. You feel better than you have in years, more like yourself, more determined and - angry. You are angry with how the shinigami have treated you; but you brush it off as your hollow's deeply hidden protective instincts- because you were left alone for a very long time, and realizing that your inverted self was trying to protect you so much of the time, was a part of your zanpakuto, even, nearly broke you further. Zangetsu and your hollow are both standing there, and Zangetsu looks quietly furious while violence rolls off the hollow almost visibly, and you don't even stop yourself from barreling forward and embracing them both tightly.

Hours are spent just _being,_ whole and unbroken again while you're scolded and berated and threatened. Then listening to everyone _but_ you being scolded, berated and threatened- you think that if any of the Gotei captains heard the things that your hollow promised to do to their corpses they'd piss themselves. He's very descriptive.

You come back to yourself with your zanpakuto arguing amongst themselves in the back of your mind, and no longer being alone- even if you go blind and deaf again you don't care in the slightest. You throw yourself at a belatedly startled Kisuke, thanks and gratitude and adoration pouring from your lips and you don't give a fuck about being embarrassed, you _love_ this man and everything he's done for you. He stutters out rejections and denies doing anything spectacular and you shut him up by kissing him breathless. He's silent, after that; very silent, because every sound is swallowed eagerly.

.0.0.0.

:Ayy there we go, a happy ending. Ichigo will happily kick any shinigami's ass if they come recruiting him again, he wants to be left the fuck alone thank you very much. Maybe he'll reconcile with his friends but ehhh I'm too lazy to add any of that or refine this further. It's a pile of steaming cliche and shit, I guess, but it's here and it's staying. Personally I think it makes a better oneshot than a two-parter, but oh well.:


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